September 9, LaGrange.
The day started badly.
We moved this morning, which meant traffic, which means break-clutch-break-shift-break and all over again for fifteen minutes, thanks to a standard transmission truck, and getting close to using a lot of curse words under my breath, fuming about the decision to move in the morning in a metropolitan area, and then as we finally arrive Chris comes over to the window after parking me and barks about us being late.
Things got sweeter with a cornucopia of breakfast rolls, bagels and danish at the church hosting us (fresh coffee and a doughnut and the world is a better place.)
Scores of uniformed children then came out to watch the tent being raised, there were lots of giggles and shouts, and I shed the last of the lousy morning feeling taking pictures.
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